Ingredients don't need to be manipulated into oblivion; they just need to be respected. My sourcing runs from the grit of Oakland's markets to the pristine farms of Napa and the rugged seasonality of Tahoe. For over 24 years, I’ve refined classical,
Michelin-level techniques, but not to build precious, tweezer-plated museum pieces. The goal is to take a core memory—whether it’s the soul of my grandmother’s New Year's field peas or the depth of my grandfather's Hawaiian saimin—and execute it with absolute precision.
You tell a story with the best local product California has to offer, strip away the pretense, and put a plate in front of someone that makes them stop talking and say, “Fuck, that’s delicious.”
